Who knows where the pain hides? Stored as it is in a body that can only cry out with an ache or sourness unaccounted for by the soul that resides within. Who knows why the stomach turns when a perfume glides through a room triggering memories better left unspoken, repressed, shut away for another time when life is more convenient and there is time to cry. 

Who knows why the back aches even after the injury has healed, the body has recovered and yet the memory of all the cruelties of the moment seems lodged between this vertebra and that. Is it memory alone that waits there to wake us in the night with a throbbing pain or stiffness laced with a sense of loss. 

We stuff our grief so deep that it becomes a poison in muscle and bone, tendon and organ, corrupting the natural flow of the body until sickness sets in. Our buried emotions fester until we shine a light on them, calling their memories to the surface, freeing the body of the burden of holding so much pain for so long. 

My left shoulder reminds me that I was not heard and so I was hurt. My stomach reminds me that I was not loved so I did not learn love. My eyes scream that they are tired of looking at an unfair world so they are dry and tired, their vision blurred. My heart weeps because it was broken by false promises, the promise of love that was really a lie dressed in a cheap ring.

Where does the pain lie when you close your eyes and sit with your body. What does it tell you when you dig deep into the story of your life. How old were you when the bad thing happened, and where did the pain move too when you were too afraid to confront your truth. 

Everyone one of us is a walking story of love and loss, confusion and injustice. To clear these energies is to find peace, to find yourself, to find healing, and to know a freedom you have not known since the first blow fell so very long ago.